If I am being honest with myself, I am not quite sure how I am dealing with all of it.

I don't cry.

I feel a little hollow.

But it is still new.

So it can only get better.

Right?

In the meantime, let me tell you a little about my Dad.

The man could tell a tale.

Could make you believe a story was true no matter how preposterous it was.

I'm not kidding.

He once had some gullible people, who shall remain nameless (Paige and Ken Palladino), believing that President Garfield had twin sons that no one knew of (Orville and Norville) and how they were the reason he was assassinated or something crazy like that.

The story went on for an hour or more.

The 'deception was in the details', or so he liked to say.

I mean, they were hanging on his every word.

He could dance.

There was nothing I liked better as a child than watching my parents dance.

They were really good.

He was an insanely good athlete.

Baseball, basketball, and golf were his favorites.

He was determined I was going to be one too.

I wasn't.

But he never gave up the dream.

I did get pretty good at golf though, so that appeased him.

When my mother would go on vacation without us,

he would buy me hideous food,

(think chocolate donuts and red pop)

and rent me really inappropriate movies.

Like, really inappropriate.

Children of the Corn when I was 7 or 8.

And Revenge of the Nerds when I was 10.

Do you remember all the nudity that is in the movie?

He made the best homemade milkshakes.

Snored louder than any other human alive.

Gave the best hugs.

Was the only person I have ever known who could make instant coffee drinkable.